Page 82 of Caught Up

Ryan met me at the door. Behind them, Walter was whining his head off.

They stuck their leg out to keep him from escaping. “How’d it go?”

“I asked Junior to come in,” I told them.

Surprise flashed across their face. “I take it that means it went well?”

I nodded. “I’ll catch you up on everything later. Where’s Taylor?”

“Out with Jackson,” Ryan said, swinging the door wide and grabbing the leash off the rack just inside. “And I need to go get dinner, because it’s her turn to cook,of course.I’ll bring Walter with me so you and Junior can have some alone time.”

Walter rushed me as soon as he had clearance,wiggle-buttingso fast that his rear end was a blur. I dropped down to pet him. I loved my roommates, but nothing made my heart sing like this animal and how happy he always was to see me when I came home, or woke up, or walked into whichever room he happened to be in.

“Hi,” I said, trying to pet him as he squirmed. “Oh, goodness. Yes, that’s your nose.” He turned, his tail slapping my arm, my back, my shoulder, and came around for a second pass.

Ryan managed to clip his leash on in the middle of the frenzy, and I thanked them as they led him down the stairs and then in the opposite direction from Junior as he strode up the sidewalk, waving hi before they turned.

“Change your mind about me and Walter meeting?” Junior asked as he took the stairs up.

I shook my head. “Ryan offered to give us some alone time.”

The grin that bloomed over his face was wicked. “Oh, really?”

Need crashed through me, my earlier sleepiness forgotten. I’d been holding my desire back all day, trying not to look at him too much, spending time with Aly while he was with Josh so I could put some space between us. Every whiff of his cologne, every touch, reminded me of our past interactions, him getting me off in the stairwell at Velvet, then the photo booth, the way I rode him in the voyeur room, the way he’d managed to hold so still when he was inside me at church. Every time we’d hooked up, we’d either been in cramped quarters or a heartbeat away from getting caught, and while that had been exciting, I couldn’t wait to get him alone in my room, where there was a large, comfortable mattress waiting for us and every toy under the sun.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand and leading him inside.

His fingers tightened on mine as we took the stairs up to the third floor. I swung open my bedroom door, and he stopped short, tugging me to a halt. My eyes went to his face, a question on the tip of my tongue, but then I saw his expression, the way his gaze danced from one spot to the next: my bed, the oversized armchair, the blank corner opposite the door—all the places I regularly filmed.

“Fuck, Lauren,” he said, his eyes smoldering as they finally slid back to mine.

I released his hand and stepped into my room, loving the way he stalked after me, loving the feeling of being pursued, even over such a short distance. He paused just long enough to shut the door and take one last lingering look at our surroundings, and then he was on me, reaching me in a final stride, bracing his hands against the wall on either side of my head.

“I can’t believe I’m in your room,” he said, his voice gaining a rough edge. “You have no idea the things I’ve fantasized about doing to you in here.”

“Tell me,” I said, heat gathering in my core. How many times had I gotten him off without even knowing?

He shook his head. “I don’t know how long we have alone, and I’m not wasting another minute of it talking. Now turn around. As much as I like you in this dress, I’d like you out of it even more.”

I spun, tugging my hair over my shoulder so he had easier access to my zipper. Instead of undoing it, his hand snaked around my neck, and the memory of the last time we’d been alone together like this surged into my mind.

“That fucking confessional booth,” he growled.

I released a breathy exhale. “I know.”

His fingers tightened on me. “I will remember the feel of you coming on the head of my dick until the day I die.” I nearly moaned as he dragged me backward. “And your pulse,” he whispered into my ear. “I’ll never forget the way it fluttered against my fingers. Just.” He tapped my neck. “Like.” Another tap. “This.”

My knees trembled at the memory, warmth coiling in my belly. I gripped his wrist. “Junior.”

His hold on me eased. “I need to fuck you. No holding back, no being quiet.” The fingers of his free hand fell to my side, bunching the hem of my dress up. “You never did tell me what you have on under here.”

I widened my legs and grinned, waiting for it.

His fingers kept on going, all the way up, finding me completely bare because I’d liked his reaction so much that first night at Velvet that I’d wanted to see if it drove him just as wild a second time. I knew right when he figured it out, because his progress froze, forehead dropping to my shoulder, hand falling away from my neck.

“All day?” he croaked.

I giggled. He sounded like he was in pain. “Yup.”

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